


Tech Troubles

by wroammin



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:02:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23808850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wroammin/pseuds/wroammin
Summary: Roman is a lead in his high school’s musical, but when tech runs always seem to go wrong for him, he decides to do a little investigating
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders
Comments: 17
Kudos: 62





	1. Tech Troubles

**Author's Note:**

> remember when i used to post my writing?? haha well me neither apparently!! but in all seriousness, i forgot how fun it was to write prinxiety banter, so this was completely self-indulgent. enjoy.

Roman’s arm whipped upwards to block the harsh incoming light that was shining directly onto his face. He stepped out of the spotlight and blinked his eyes to adjust them to the darkness, then rubbed them when it didn’t work.

“What’s going on up there?” The director called out, looking backwards and up at the tech booth. A clattering sound escaped from the enclosed booth, and the spotlight quickly shut off. The director frowned, “Please be careful. I know it’s just the fifth week, but we do want to keep our cast’s eyes intact.”

“At least let me memorize the script. Then, blind me all you want.” Roman smiled good-naturedly as he spoke. He couldn’t see who was in the booth, but whoever it was clearly didn’t appreciate his joke, since they remained completely silent.

“Let’s just take it from the top, Roman.” Mr. Sanders, the director, told him as he turned back toward the stage. Roman nodded and flipped back through the script.

That was the first of multiple mishaps involving the tech booth and Roman. Music for his songs would suddenly cut out or start too early, spotlights were either too bright or too dim, and they didn’t follow him around the stage at all. Mr. Sanders did his best to hide his frustration, but Roman could tell he was nearing his limit. It seemed that most of the mistakes occurred during his scenes, but he didn’t want to jump to conclusions just yet. It was some time around the second month of rehearsals when he finally decided to knock on the door to the tech booth.

After a few minutes of silence, he called out.

“Hello? Anyone in there?” No response. Roman frowned and opened the door, which was thankfully unlocked. He peeked in, then opened the door fully upon realizing he was in a small, closet-sized room. Attached to the back wall was a vertical ladder, which Roman set upon climbing.

He gracefully pulled himself over the ledge and into the suspended booth over the auditorium. It was really more like a long, dark passageway with barely any headroom. Near the middle of the hall-shaped room, he could see a bit of light coming in from the auditorium, filtering through a rectangular window carved into the side of the wall. Roman slowly approached in the dark, keeping his hand on the right wall for balance.

His hand floated over grooves and marks etched onto the wall that spelled out names and years, remembering the presence of previous techies who manned the booth. Some scribbles were more graphic.

Cables were taped down to the floor and the walls. Roman followed their paths back to the spotlights that were peeking out of the rectangular window, then to the figure who seemed to be messing with them.

“Hello!” Roman spoke up, perhaps a little too suddenly, since the figure jumped away from the light they’d been working on and hit their head on the low ceiling.

“Shit,” They hissed, clutching at their head.

Roman stepped forward quickly, hands out in what he hoped was an apologetic gesture, “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry about that, I didn’t-”

“Wait… Roman?” The figure turned to face him now, and Roman did not recognize the boy who was standing in the light. He wore a dark black hoodie and ripped jeans that were somehow an even darker black. He was slouching, but Roman got the feeling that the boy’s poor posture was not due to the low ceiling.

“That is I.” He responded, hesitantly coming to a stop just inside the small box of light in the room.

The other boy searched his expression for something, then scowled (yes, scowled) at Roman when he appeared to not find it.

“You don’t recognize me.” The boy said. Roman winced at the bitterness in his tone. Who exactly was this guy?

“I’m sorry to say I don’t. But that’s what I’m up here for! To meet you, that is,” The other boy quirked a brow, “And everyone else. Not, uh, not you specifically.” Roman added with a small smile.

The boy looked him over and turned back toward the spotlights without even saying a word.

“Where is everyone else, by the way?” Roman asked.

“Rehearsals are over. They all went home.” The boy avoided his eyes, “Maybe you should follow.”

Roman looked at the exit, then back at the other boy. “I… I’m truly sorry I don’t remember you, uh–”

“Virgil.” He supplied begrudgingly.

Roman frowned and tried to think. “Virgil…Oh, of course, Virgil! We had English together last year!”

“Nope.”

Roman grinned and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “Worth a shot.”

Normally, people liked it when he smiled, saying it made him look charming and princely. This boy–Virgil– clearly did not. Roman let his smile drop.

“What about Pre-calc?” He tried again.

“No.”

“Honors U.S. History?”

Virgil lifted his chin, looking defensive. “I took AP, thank you very much.”

“Well,” Roman huffed, running a hand through his hair, “we don’t have chemistry together, that much is clear.”

“Of course we don’t have chemistry together, that was a sophomore-year class.” Virgil’s mouth quirked upwards at Roman’s groan of frustration. Maybe this unexpected visitor could be more entertaining than he’d initially thought.

“Right.” Roman gave up, and Virgil leaned down to adjust some cables.

He quietly watched him for a moment, then turned to look out of the small viewing box. Roman let out a small whistle.

“Nice view up here.” He said, glancing down to see if the other boy would react.

Virgil remained silent. Roman didn’t take the hint, staring back out at the empty auditorium.

“Do you like working in crew?”

Roman heard a cable snap into place, and a spotlight suddenly flickered on, lighting up the exact center of the stage.

“Sometimes.” Virgil leaned back up, eyes following the cone of light the spotlight was emitting. “When no one else is up here, it can be pretty chill.”

Roman’s brows furrowed once he realized what Virgil’s comment meant. The actor pointedly decided to ignore it.

“Should they really let you mess around with the cables? I mean, what if you get electrocuted or something?” Roman questioned.

“If it was your brother up here, maybe I’d be worried.”

Roman’s eyes suddenly widened in realization. Virgil finally looked up with an entertained smile.

“Remus… Oh, _no_. You’re one of my brother’s friends, aren’t you?”

Roman could still hear Virgil’s laughter when he went to sleep that night.


	2. Friend Troubles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey uhh if anyone’s figured out how to write human interaction or title these things please let me know

Virgil could still see Roman’s horrified face when he woke up in the morning. The memory brought a small smile to his face, which was usually a rare occurrence before 12 o’clock. Or any time of day, really.

He supposed that he should perhaps feel some kind of guilt for purposely messing up Roman’s scenes, but after meeting him, any sort of those morally confusing notions he’d been having had been quickly forgotten.

Virgil knew why Roman had gone up to the booth yesterday, of course. But judging by Roman’s excessively flustered demeanor as he apologized for forgetting him, Virgil suspected he wouldn’t have to worry about getting kicked off crew for sabotage at least for a while. He felt a little bit satisfied with himself at that.

So, naturally, the slight skip in his step as he made his way to his locker was bound to attract the attention of demonic, happiness-sucking entities. Two hands clamped around the side of his headphones and yanked them down to his neck.

“Hey, what gives?” Virgil said, not bothering to turn around as he pulled out his phone and paused his music.

“Aw, I’m truly sorry for interrupting your Fifty Shades of Grey audiobook–”

“It was not–”

“Ooh, Fifty Shades Freed, then! I didn’t really peg you as the type, Virgil, but I guess even prudish emos have to let loose sometimes.”

“Good morning to you, too, Remus.” Virgil sighed, pulling his hood up and then stuffing his hands back into his pockets.

Remus just cackled like a hyena, suddenly reminding Virgil of the fact that, although he and Roman were twins, their relation in Virgil’s mind ended there. Remus’s hysterical howling was nothing like Roman’s warm laughter, and even Remus’s ratty mess of a mane was a stark contrast to Roman’s coiffed locks.

“Oh! I heard about your little encounters with my dearly beloved brother, Prick Charming.” They continued walking in the direction of Virgil’s locker.

“Yeah? What’d he say?” The darker-haired boy asked with an unamused sideways glance. His friend’s eyes were trained on something further down the hall.

“Probably something as stupid as he usually says, I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening.” Remus abruptly made a gross face at the random freshman he’d been staring down, sending them scrambling into the nearest hallway as quickly as they could. He laughed maniacally to himself, wiping away a fake tear. “Works every time.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Uh, aren’t friends supposed to like, stick up for each other when someone’s talking shit about them behind their back? Or at least pay attention when they do?”

“Huh?” Remus said as he scanned the hallway for more unsuspecting freshmen, frowning as soon as he realized there were none left. Virgil repeated the question. “Oh, Roman wasn’t talking shit about you. I would’ve beat his ass if he was.”

“What? Then what _was_ he saying?” Virgil tried to keep his voice impassive, but confusion and curiosity inevitably leaked into his tone.

“Ugh, I don’t wanna think too hard about the stupid shit my brother says, Virge, but I think he was talking about your… laugh? ”

“My laugh.” Virgil mumbled, finally coming to a stop at his locker. “Wait, he was talking about my… laugh? But he wasn’t talking shit about it?”

He turned to ask Remus to elaborate, but his friend had already shot off down the hallway after two underclassmen.

It was probably nothing. He told himself to forget about it completely. And by the time a certain actor swung by the tech booth later that afternoon, he already had.

[]•[]•[]

The troubles with the tech booth hadn’t stopped after Roman’s visit up to the booth the day before. In fact, although Roman was hesitant to admit it, things seemed like they were only getting worse. So, he kept on investigating.

Roman grabbed his bag and made his way up to the booth. Remembering his first visit, Roman made an effort to arrive a little earlier so he could meet more of the crew.

In all honesty, Roman wasn’t entirely sure what, or who, he was looking for. Was it a scorned classmate? Perhaps someone who was jealous of his role as a lead? Or was it truly just someone who was plain awful at manning the booth?

Whoever or whatever it was that was causing these mistakes, Roman had to do a little more digging before he could start connecting dots.

That was the main– if not, the only–reason why Roman stayed after everyone else finally left the tech booth. Well, almost everyone else.

“Hello again, Virgil-who-is-a-friend-of-my-brother’s!” Roman exclaimed as he heard the last of the crew slip down the ladder and out of the booth. Virgil shot the actor a glare, which quickly turned into an amused stare as he finally realized what Roman was wearing.

“Couldn’t bother to get out of costume, Princey?”

Roman looked down as if he’d forgotten he was in-costume, which Virgil thought would be impossible with how extravagant his outfit was, with golden shoulder epaulets and a bright red sash fitted across his chest.

He looked back up at Virgil, brows knit together. “What do you mean? This is what I normally wear.”

The techie rolled his eyes, and Roman finally let his fake confusion drop in favor of a beaming grin.

“Okay, okay. So I didn’t have time to change because I wanted to get here earlier. Sue me.”

“I’m considering it.” Virgil muttered, crossing his arms.

“Well, I see you’re feeling chattier today!”

The darker-haired boy frowned and went quiet. Roman’s chocolate-brown eyes widened.

“Oh, I– uh, sorry? Was that rude? If it was, I’m–”

“Truly sorry?” Virgil sighed, wondering just how much more of a Prince Charming cliché Roman could be. “Don’t worry about it, Princey. Remus has made far worse comments.”

Roman looked genuinely relieved at not having offended Virgil, which made the techie feel... something. Probably just confusion at seeing an expression of relief on a face that resembled Remus’s, who never felt guilty for doing anything.

“I’m sure he has.” The actor agreed with a soft smile.

It was quiet for a couple of moments, which made Virgil a little nervous.

“Can I trust you?” Roman suddenly asked, leaning lazily on the wall and staring expectantly at the darker-haired boy.

Jesus, was this some kind of weird attempt to let Virgil incriminate himself? Probably not, he considered, since Roman was so incredibly and unbelievably polite, but he hesitated anyway. Virgil should have just stayed silent, really… but there were no spotlights to fix in the booth this time around to keep him entertained, and something about Roman’s ridiculous prince costume made Virgil want to poke fun at him some more. So, he answered.

“I guess you could, but it’s probably not the smartest idea.”

“But… not the dumbest?” Roman inquired, cocking his head.

“Is that really how you decide whether or not to do something? If it’s not the dumbest idea possible, it’s good enough?”

Roman let out a small laugh. “Not always. Sometimes it’s the dumbest idea possible and I do it anyway.”

“Guess that explains why you chose to stay here after rehearsals again.” Virgil huffed, grabbing the handles of a nearby spotlight.

“Right, well, I was hoping you could help me with something.” Roman pushed off of the wall and approached Virgil, who was sitting on one of the fold-out chairs by the viewing box and now aimlessly swinging a spotlight back and forth. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed it yourself, but there have been a couple of… recurring issues with some key scenes in the play. Namely, all of the ones I’m in.”

“I’ve noticed a couple.” Virgil held the spotlight’s handles a little tighter, wondering if Roman was really about to confront him about the sabotage right then and there. Had he read things wrong? Did Roman actually know it was him?

Roman continued, “And seeing as you’re seemingly always up here–”

“I’m not.”

“–Could you maybe help keep an eye out? For anything, erm, suspicious? I don’t really know what to look for, but since I can’t be up here while I’m onstage, a helping hand– or, eye– would really be appreciated.”

So Roman hadn’t quite figured things out. Virgil could work with that.

“Huh.” He eased his iron grip on the spotlight and turned to fully face Roman, suddenly feeling a little bolder. His newfound bravery probably had something to do with the fact that he was the only one in the room not wearing a stupid prince outfit. “So you want _me_ to help you?”

“I– well, you don’t have to, I just thought–”

“No, yeah, I know, but… how do you know it’s not me doing all that stuff?” Virgil tried to look nonchalant, but his brain was screaming at him to _shutupshutupshutup_.

“Well... I guess that’s where the trust comes in!” Roman gave him a bright, crooked grin, and Virgil felt something shift in the pit of his stomach.

He turned his gaze away from Roman’s stupidly perfect, sunshiney smile.

“You sure are something, Princey… I’ll help you out.”

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on tumblr to post the next part or just tell me what you think @wroammin


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